


Control

by Lemonayde



Category: Jacksepticeye Ego - Fandom
Genre: Blood, Demonic Possession, Demons, Possession, glitch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 14:04:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21037424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemonayde/pseuds/Lemonayde
Summary: His hands were shaking. They always were.





	Control

His hands were shaking. They always were.

They shook when he looked at himself in the mirror each morning. They shook as he tried to speak, and they shook as he washed the blood staining his hands off for the third time this week, warm tears dripping on to the sink.

"Go away, go away, go away," He muttered to himself repeatedly as he dug his fingernails, lathered in soap, against his own flesh. He knew that no matter how hard he scrubbed, he could not change how dirty they had become, but that didn't stop him from trying. It was the only thing he could do. "Leave me alone."

"You know I can't do that, S̶̡̰̀̃ě̷̢á̵͖̑ǹ̸̳."

The voice he had dreaded to hear came from in front of him, causing Sean to jump back. His hands were still dripping with pink tinged water as he looked up at the mirror, blacked out eyes staring back at him.

"Fuck you." Was the only response Seán could muster, spitting it like poison as the man in the mirror laughed, shaking his head and causing the gash across his neck to send new spurts of blood dripping down his chest. Seán hated how the sight of it meant nothing to him anymore.

"Ŗ̸̗̈́̇e̴̦̔á̶̪̼͠l̶͇l̸̮̼̎y̷̡̅͛ now? That's all you g̵̛͈o̴̰̰͋͠ẗ̵̢́̇?" He mocked, voice eerily similar to Seán's own. "A bit pathetic, really."

Seán flinched at his words, clenching his fists so hard that he could feel his own fingers ache, but he didn't speak up again.

The demon in the mirror sighed at his silence, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “Nothing else to say, hm? B̶̛͙͂o̸̘̮̐r̶̤͚̋ì̵̘̩n̵̹̎̓g̴̜̃͝. This was a lot more fun when you were a bit...feisty.”

Seán looked away, nails from his clenched fists pressing harder into his skin. It felt as if he would draw blood. He almost wished he would. “What's the fucking point? No matter what I say you're just going to keep fucking with my head. Why even bother?”

Anti’s laughter filled the bathroom, a loud echo that shook Seán’s body to the very core. He spoke once more, voice breaking and sounding like real-life glitching audio. Fucking virus. “Ḇ̴̰͛r̶̼̄o̵̺͈͘k̶̛̥̏ê̶̺̜ you already? Now, S̸̘͒̀ė̵̘̳á̷̪͙͝ṋ̴͐, I expected more from you! Didn’t anticipate my creator to be a little b̴̤͊͐i̴̧̡̐̈́t̷̪̦̐͝c̸̞̽͒ḩ̷͖͒!”

Seán’s breath hitched at the insult, every instinct in his body telling him to snap back, but he knew it wasn’t worth it. It would only get worse if he did.

“Silence isn’t going to save you, J̵͙͍̈́a̶͖̋c̷̠̿k̸̨̫̎. I’m inside your mind.” Anti leaned forward, seeming as if he were about to crawl out of the mirror and into reality, mouth spread into an abnormally large smile. “I can hear every l̵͕͂̑i̶͉͝t̶̗͌t̵̻̃͊l̷͙̔̓ȩ̶͈́ thought inside that head of yours. There’s no escaping me. You’re a̸̺̙l̴͛͜l̶̗̃ ̸̲̺́m̷̛̥̍ị̸̩̒n̴̮̖͌͐e̶̖͐͜.” 

“Stop.” Jack said, his own voice breaking as fresh tears sprung to the corner of his eyes. He kept his eyes fixated on the ground. It was all he could do. “Please, just stop.”

He could feel the icy cold grip of claws on his mind, world spiraling into black as Anti’s voice whispered from inside his own head.

“Not a f̸̨̣͌̚u̵͉͇͑c̶̣͈k̸͖̠̿͘î̵̗̂n̷̘̼̈g̸̳̏̄ chance.”


End file.
